


The Stories That Bind Us

by fallingsuns



Category: Warcraft, World of Warcraft
Genre: Blood Elves, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingsuns/pseuds/fallingsuns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amelia Swiftrunner is chasing the shadows that haunt not only her, but her family as well while Eran Swiftrunner struggles with his loyalties to the Order and his love for his sisters. Meanwhile Zana continues to blame and isolate her siblings for Ara's fall and Hana, the baby of the family, is put in a situation where someone else's life is in her hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stories That Bind Us

**Author's Note:**

> Ok! So this is the first story that I've really done for WoW and this idea's been bouncing in my head for ages. I'd love to hear your feedback and, although I have a general idea of where it's going for all the characters, I'd really be interested in hearing your ideas. :) 
> 
> Disclaimer: not mine! belong's to Blizzard

 

In Silvermoon there were many great families. One of which was the House of Swiftrunner. The Swiftrunner household was known for it's amazing mages, and it's dedicated warriors. Yet the most powerful members of the Swiftrunner household was it's patriarch's oldest children. Twins, named Ara and Eran, became some of the most powerful people in Azeroth. Ara became a powerful Archmagi in the Kirin Tor while Eran became a powerful Commander in the Holy Order. Together they became the Horde's greatest team, battling together in a deadly mix of magic and sword mastery. Yet while the two eldest rose to great heights, the next child became a huntress, a silent force that was deadly with a bow and arrow. She traveled mostly alone, with only by a white tiger and a troll shaman by her side. Together the three of them fought in some of the most dangerous battles that determined the outcomes of the wars.

 

Back on Azeroth there were two more members of the House of Swiftrunner. Zana was an apprentice to one of the magistrates and was assisting with the relocation of Dalaran while Hana, the youngest, was training to become a full member of the Holy Order.

 

But then, the Lich King awoke. The three oldest were summoned to the battle of Icecrown, and one of them left changed. In the days following the battle several secrets were uncovered, and this is the story of the aftermath.........

 

 

 

**Amelia**

 

 

 

It was a normal day in Area 52. Or at least, as normal a day as it could be. Despite the constant arguing of the diplomats, the rocket was still the most interesting thing in town.

 

“There she is.” A hooded elf and troll were seated at the repair stand. Nodding his head ever so slightly to left, the troll looked over towards the rocket.

 

“Ah, dat be her all right. I never forget a face, and she jwas a special one for sure.” Tapping his fingers on the table, the troll beckons the blacksmith over. “How long till joo be done with that chestplate?”

 

“I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying!” The goblin snapped, cracking his knuckles. “You can't rush a thing of beauty kiddo!”

 

“Excuse me, can you tell me anything about the blue haired goblin over there?” The elf interrupted the conversation, her voice cool and commanding.

 

“Blaskit?” The goblin had already turned back to forge, his robotic assistant smoking as it bustled around. Briefly looking over his shoulder, he saw the elf nod once. “She's one of the engineers, one of the best if you believe what the boss says. Course I prefer to judge for myself, but then she fixed my bot here, did a damn good job too.”

 

“Anything else?” The elf leaned forward in her chair, linking her fingers together.

 

“There ain't much else elfie, she lives in one of the rooms in the inns, spends most of her time working, she ain't very social, if you catch my drift.”

 

“I see. Thank you.” She nods, leaning in so only her companion could hear her. “Now we wait, she'll come soon enough.”

 

“Eh Blaskit! You got those fuel modifiers done yet?” the chief engineer looks down at his clipboard, his eyes dark and beady.

 

“Yeah Boss,” The blue haired goblin doesn't bother to look up, instead waving her ratchet towards her station. “They're in the box on the left.”

 

“Good, good! This baby will be running in no time!” The chief engineer grins, puffing his chest out. “Eh! You! What do you think you're doing?”

 

“Go get em Boss.....” Blaskit laughs under her breath, continuing the repairs on the engineers as she hummed a Elite Tauren Chieftain song.

 

“Hey! Joo be the one they call Blaskit?” A troll with blood red hair approaches her bench. “I be Ra'gesh and this here be Amelia.”

 

“I might be, who's asking?” The elf was standing a little ways behind the troll, her hood having been yanked down, and her arms crossed as she faced the other direction. She was tall, with a tan that was uncommon among the Sin'dorei. Her skin radiated with the reddish glow of the blood elves, and her brown hair was tied in a messy bun. She held herself like royalty, yet her appearance contradicted that theory.

 

Blaskit slowly begins to back away, and when neither of them answer she bolts. She slides under the workbench, grabbing a wrench as she sprints down the streets.

 

“Damn, dey always run......” Ra'gesh sighs as Amelia bolts after, her lithe form standing out in the waves of goblins.

 

Amelia weaves her way through the streets, using her height and size to edge her way past the goblins. Sneaking up behind Blaskit the blood elf grabs her, yanking her into the nearby alley.

 

“Slow down, all we want to do is talk.” The blood elf continues pushing Blaskit deeper into the alley.

 

“Look, look! What did Garrosh pay you? I'll pay double! Triple even!” The goblin squirms in Amelia's grip. Suddenly there's the sound of loud breathing fills the alley, and Ra'gesh appears behind them. Narrowing her eyes in irritation, the elf tosses Blaskit to the troll.

 

“We aren't here because of Garrosh.” They continue to walk deeper into the alley, eventually reaching the walled off end. “We need you to.....invent, something for us.”

 

“Invent something? I don't know if you got the memo elfie, but I'm out of that business.” Blaskit glared up at the duo, her arms crossed.

 

“What's it gonna take to get you back in it? Some gold, a little bunny? I tink we still got one of those.....” Ra'gesh twirls his mace between his fingers.

 

“Nothing! I don't know how you found me but listen, I don't invent anymore!” There's a brief moment where nothing is said, and then after a nod from Amelia, Ra'gesh drops Blaskit on the ground.

 

“Now tell me.....do you really want to stay cooped up here working on some rocket that's never going work?” Amelia stares down at the goblin, her eyes narrowed and cold. “That's fine by me, come on Ra'gesh, we'll find a real goblin.”

 

“Eh Lady! I am a real goblin! And don't think I'm going to just-” A large hand suddenly covers her mouth as they jump behind the crates.

 

“Kor'kan....what are they doing here?” Amelia whispers, looking out over the crate at the hulking, plate covered orcs that were talking to the goblins.

 

“Dey be lookin for desserters mon, tons of de new goblins head out here, try to blend in wit the native folk.” Ra'gesh points to the piece of parchment held in the Kor'kan's leader's hand. “Most of dem don't even bother to change der names, figure the Trade Prince won't let de Warchief search de place.”

 

“Guess they were wrong....” Amelia whispered, ducking back behind the crates. “Okay, it's time to leave. Ra'gesh, set down your Stoneclaw totem over by those merchants there and then while the guards are distracted we'll jump the wall from the alley and leave by land, it's safer that way.”

 

“Hey elfie, what about me?” Blaskit hissed, ripping Ra'gesh's hand off her mouth.

 

“Well, the way I see it, you have two options.” Amelia smirks down at the goblin. “You can either come with us, or stay here and deal with Kor'kan....but I'm sure you don't have to worry about them now do you?”

 

Blaskit glares at the elf, yet she still follows the two of them as they creep their way towards the alley's wall. Amelia climbs her way up the wall easily, and Ra'gesh tosses Blaskit up before following himself. They jump down onto the purple ground, Amelia rolling to her feet moments later.

 

“Joo know, I always hate dis part.....” Ra'gesh whispers as Amelia lures the pair of horses from the stables over. “Dese animals hate me, I'm sure of it.”

 

“And I'm sure you're being crazy, as always. The goblin's riding with you.” Amelia tosses the reins to the troll.

 

“What? No! Damn.....fine, but just dis once you hear me?” Ra'gesh whispers irritably as he helps Blaskit onto the horse.

 

Hours later they're settled in behind the Thunderhold Inn, the fire roaring as Ra'gesh piled more wood on it. It's quiet, with each of them eating their dinner in silence.

 

“So elfie, what's this thing you want me to invent? Not that I'm saying I'm going to do it!” Blaskit holds up her last piece of bread, staring at it intently.

 

“A fel tracker.” Amelia bits into her apple and it's silent as she chews. “It has to be powerful yet subtle, something small that can be sneaked past security.”

 

“That's a hard combination to find, what makes you think I can do it?” Ra'gesh snorts, tossing yet another log into the fire. Amelia laughs as well, the fire dancing across her features.

 

“The Steamwheedle Cartel’s never humble.” The elf leans back, her eyes closed. “They don't have a reason not to be. See, you only really get humbled after you’ve watched everything you’ve created, everything you’ve worked for, fall apart.”

 

“Joo carry jooself different den de others.” Ra'gesh grins humorlessly. “After we saw dat it wasn't hard to pick joo off a list of deserters that we.....found.”

 

“Well, still! Why me? Tons of goblins dessert!” Amelia shakes her head, opening her eyes to stare right back at Blaskit.

 

“None from the Bilgewater Cartel do.” Ra'gesh nods in agreement, rummaging around in his bag. “Not to mention there's a huge bounty on your head.”

 

“And when dere's a huge bounty, joo know joo's a genius. Or can blow tings up real nice.” Ra'gesh tugs a leg of meat out of his bag. “Amelia, where be Tali? I know we be leaving her wit the stable man....”

 

Ra'gesh hops up and enters the inn, cutting through the busy crowd. “I know why you don't want to help us.”

 

“Ha! Sure you do elfie, sure you do.” Blaskit snorts, tossing a small piece of her bread into the flames.

 

“You don't want to invent because your last invention blew up over a hundred Alliance forces.” the elf pauses for a moment, staring up at the stars. “And ten refugees from Lor'danel.”

 

Blaskit stares at her for a moment. Not saying anything, Amelia leans back and tosses her apple core into the fire.

 

“I need this tracker so I can find my sister.” Amelia folds her hands in her lap. “My sister....kidnapped Ra'gesh's brother.”

 

“This sister of yours....” The goblin leaps on the change in conversation, even if it's darker than the one she escaped. “If she's gone and kidnapped a person, why the hell hasn't Garrosh sent anyone after her?”

 

Amelia's ear droop slightly as the other woman briefly looks away. She then looks back, her eyes focused right on Blaskit. “All incidents involving warlocks are immediately deferred to the Holy Order.”

 

Blaskit inhales sharply. The Holy Order was one of the biggest assets the Blood Elves had brought to the Horde. Protectors of the light, the paladins were known for their execution of swift justice, and the highest offense was the practice of dark magic.

 

“You don't look like no paladin, and last I checked, trolls weren't allow to join.” Blaskit pauses, thinking long and hard about her next choice of words. “Which begs the question, why are you hunting her?”

 

“I need to find her first.” Amelia doesn't offer anything more.

 

“So, let me get this straight.” Blaskit crosses her arms. “Not only are you hunting a extremely dangerous fugitive, you're also defying the Holy Order?”

 

“That's correct. Are you going to help us? Or do I need to lend you a horse?” Amelia looks directly at Blaskit, the fire reflecting in her eyes.

 

It's silent for a long moment before the goblin sighs, the exhale sounding ominous against the night. “Why the hell not......why the hell not.”

 

_Dear Eran,_

 

_By the time you read this I no longer be in the “Pike”. It appears that we are still ahead of Markel (Thanks mostly to you) though I do not know how long it will last. We managed to recruit Blaskit, the goblin engineer who's dossier you sent us. It is night as I am writing this and there is not a soul awake in the Hold besides me. Yet I feel as if something, or someone, is watching me. It's like a prickling under my skin, a nervous tick that I can't get rid of. On another note, I hope you are well, and that you have heard from Hana._

 

_Love, your sister,_

 

_Amelia_

 

 

 

**Eran**

 

 

 

The letter fluttered in his hand, as the wind blew at Eran, causing ash to smear his sister's loopy writing. The ruins of Andorhal seemed to swallow the Plaguelands whole, leaving no area, no person, untouched.

 

He was the second oldest in his family, and Eran had been a member of the Holy Order since he was twelve. Having been made a Commander after his actions at the Black Temple, Eran was a well known veteran. Having served in all the wars since Outland, he was one of the first the Order sent to “assess” the damages done by the rampant scourge in Andorhal. He was currently stationed in a small observation base on the ridge overlooking the town.

 

“Commander! There's been another outbreak!” His aide, a young orc woman who was suprisingly talented with an ax, came running up to his side. “They are mindless, or at least as far as we can tell. We'll need to find the necromancer who's powering it all though.”

 

“No need Tasha, I'll handle it. Just make sure everyone's following the proper protocol, we don't want anyone hurt because of these creatures.” Eran looks back down at the town, the skeletons running rampant down below.

 

Nodding once, Tasha turns and leaves. Looking back down, the paladin draws his great sword before jumping down into Andorhal.

 

“Begone!” Raising his hand he sets the ground beneath him, and several dozen skeletons, ablaze.

 

Continuing to wade his way through the endless bodies, Eran searches for the Lich responsible. Banishing more and more skeletons, he walks through the entire town. Eventually a cold chill settles upon him, and he has mere moments to react before he's thrown into one of the burning houses.

 

Struggling back to his feet, Eran pushes his hand forward, causing a seal to form on the Lich's head. The Lich stumbles, but only for a moment. Recovering quickly, he pushes Eran deeper into the burning building. There's the smell of burning wood and smoke clogging his nose and breathing is getting harder and harder to do. The paladin struggles back to his feet, the silhouette of the Lich coming closer and closer. Eran throws his hand out again, and the ground beneath the Lich glows, and the holy light dances up his body.

 

Yet it is not enough, and once again the Lich throws Eran back into the building, this time trapping him underneath the debris. He can see the Lich coming closer, his bony fingers reflecting the light. Eran struggles to get his hand free, to reach for his sword that's lying just out of his reach. He kicks, trying to move despite his heavy armor. The smell of the Lich fills his senses, and he looks up to see the skeleton almost at his side.

 

Then suddenly, the Lich stops. Roots are twisting around his lower body, and the Lich cries out as his bones crack. As he falls to the ground there's a burst of bright light and when it clears the Lich is on the ground, and a night elf is standing above him.

 

“I am Mona.” The elf extends her hand, speaking thalassian fluently. She was dressed in all black leather, and had a woodland staff on her back.

 

After a moment of tense silence, Eran takes the offered hand. Although the two sides had agreed to a temporary truce, neither side truly trusted one another.

 

“I'm Eran, a member of the Holy Order and I'm investigating the Scourge's increased presence in Andorhal.” He picks his sword up off the ground, slipping back into it's sheath. “May I ask why you're here?”

 

“I've been here for the past two weeks, attempting to reverse the damage that the Scourge has done.” Mona smiles briefly, tucking a loose strand of blue hair behind her ear. “Malfurion sent me to make sure that there was no more damage done in the ensuing battle.”

 

“Malfurion?” Eran cocks his head slightly, staring at the night elf in slight confusion. “But then-aren't you-”

 

“DRUIDESS!!” A loud voice comes echoing through the ruins. Moments later a red haired dwarf comes running towards them. “The battle has begun! Thassarian has ordered that you return to the battlefield at once!”

 

Mona whips her head around, her eyes wide in shock. “I have to go, may Elune guide you, paladin.”

 

“I'm going with you.” Eran follows the druid towards the dwarf. “This involves me just as much as it involves you.”

 

“Like hell it does!” The dwarf snaps, stomping his foot on the ground. “It's your bloody side that started the attack anyways!”

 

“Excuse me? Last time I checked the truce was temporary, we all knew a battle was inevitable! Besides, you'll make your way faster with my help” Eran glared down at the dwarf, his eyes stone cold.

 

“That-that may be but we still can't-”

 

“He's coming with us Armie.” Mona interrupted the dwarf by raising her hand. “Come along Eran, we must hurry.”

 

Running along, Eran loses track of any sense of time. Suddenly he's thrown back by Mona, the druid having stopped the trio in their path. Struggling to regain his balance, the paladin glares at the druid for a moment before he takes in the scene in front of him.

 

“What the bloody hell is that?” The dwarf barks out. The battle in front of them was raging, and several Val'kyr were falling from the sky, their battle screams echoing through the air.

 

“The Val'kyr.....what are they doing here?” Eran stares up at the sky, disbelief obvious on his face. “They haven't been seen since Northrend, we must go, right away.”

 

“What? Like hell am I abandoning the Alliance, especially not on your word, blood elf!” The dwarf glared, looking down at the massive battle below.

 

“You don't have a choice!” The blood elf flings his helmet to the ground, anger briefly clouding his senses. “Don't you understand? They kill everything living! Everything that is Sylvanas' enemy, your army will be destroyed, will be burned to the ground! Already Thalassian is planning a retreat, see that formation? He wants to get everyone out that he can!”

 

“He's right Armie.” Mona places a comforting hand on the dwarf's shoulder. “There's nothing we can do to turn the tide of this battle, Thassarian would want us to leave.”

 

“Thank you.” Eran smiles, picking his helmet back up. “I don't plan on leaving the battle without assisting somehow, and I know you all will want to do something too, but once we do we have to leave immediately, we'll need an escape plan.”

 

“There are tunnels, under the houses.” Mona paused, her head tilted to the side. “The settlers used them to escape the bandits that would often sweep though these areas. They lead out into the woods but they're....they're not stable.”

 

“They'll have to do. You're positive you can get us into those tunnels quickly?” Mona nods, and Eran climbs up onto the rock that overlooked the battle below. Raising his hands in the air, they start to glow softly and a shield begins to form above the Alliance soldiers. Mona appears beside him, holding her hands out. Suddenly the trees come alive, scooping up the Forsaken soldiers and throwing them into the distance.

 

“We have to go, they....they've seen us.” Eran whispers, pointing to the Val'kyr swarming around, shrieking in confusion. “We must hurry, it won't be long before they tell their mistress.”

 

The druidess nods, turning and leading the way back to the burning town. The ruins are quiet, and Mona leads them into the skeleton of a small cottage. She pushes aside several charred pieces of wood and sweeps away mounds of ash to reveal a small stone hatch.

 

“Well, here we are.” Mona smiles, pulling the hatch up to reveal the inky darkness. “There's a rope ladder that should lead to the bottom.”

 

“You go first, then the dwarf and then I'll follow up afterwords.” The blood elf places his hand on the other elf's back, nudging her towards to the ladder.

 

It's silent as Mona goes down the ladder, the only sounds being the sound of their breathing. Then there's the soft thud of her boots hitting the ground, and a small flower makes it's way out of the hole. Armie then slowly makes his way down, snippets of dwarf curses making their way up the hole. Eran can tell when the dwarf hits the bottom, a loud thump and cursing hits his ears as he reaches down to grab the rope ladder.

 

It's dark, and the small circle of light seems miles away. Eran feels as if the stone walls are closing in around him, and he forces himself to take a deep breath before he slowly continues down. The rope is old, and it feels frayed and weak in his hands. He goes slow, and eventually he reaches the bottom, his boot hitting the ground.

 

“Okay, now that we're all here, does anyone have a light?” Mona's voice comes from Eran's left, and he nods in response before realizing she couldn't see him.

 

“Give me a moment.” He holds his hand out and concentrates, and a second later a small ball of light hovers above his palm.

 

The small area is illuminated, revealing the other two and the stone walls. Mona gives a small smile of thanks before turning and facing the southern wall. Upon closer inspection Eran sees that there's a small door. Mona pulls it open, a small smile on her face.

 

“The bandits weren't very smart. Even if they did find the hatch, the door would have completely fooled them.” Mona explains, leading the way through a narrow passage. “It was one of the few things the settlers could do to keep themselves safe.”

 

“So why didn't they use them to escape the Scourge? Surely if it fooled bandits it would fool the undead.” Eran allows the light to rise a little higher, giving off a little more light.

 

“It happened too fast for most, and for those that did....well the forest creatures had become infected as well, those poor settlers had no idea what was out there.” The light reflects off her face, revealing her lighting face marks. “This town is just a horror story, and this....this is the end of it.”

 

“While that may be true, you don't need to worry about us making it out.” Eran tries to sound reassuring as the path seems to stretch endlessly in front of them. “She'll send agents to make sure everyone's dead, and after the Val'kyr tell her about the battle, well, at least we're getting a head start on her.”

 

“What do you mean a head-” suddenly there's a rumbling sound, and the ground begins to shake beneath their feet. The two elves throw themselves forward, landing on the ground as the ceiling begins to collapse on them. The ball of light goes out, and Eran reaches blindly to grab Mona's hand as the ground continues to shake. He struggles to get a shield around them, using their connected hands to expand it over the druid as well.

 

Eventually the ground stops shaking, and although the air's still filled with dust, the ceiling is no longer falling down. The paladin pulls himself up to a sitting position, and after releasing the shield, produces another ball of light.

 

“Are you all right?” Eran's voice resounds across the pathway. Mona looks up, and she looks unharmed as she gets to her feet. Suddenly an alarmed look crosses her face, and she begins to look around frantically.

 

“Where....where is he?” She whips her head around, her braid having becoming practically undone. “Armie? Armie where are you?”

 

Suddenly it hits Eran that she's talking about the dwarf. He too begins to look around, as if a second pair of eyes will reveal something that the first didn't. They both get to their feet, and eventually they both turn to look at the pile of rock blocking the way back. Mona closes her eyes for a moment before going over to the rocks.

 

“We have to keep moving, the tunnel will be crawling with Rangers and this pile of rocks won't stop them.” Eran places his hand on Mona's shoulder, and he slowly leads her away. “There's nothing we can do, even if we could move all of the rocks the Rangers would be on us before we could escape.”

 

“You're.......you're right I suppose.” The druid admits, allowing herself to be led once again down the path. “He would want us to continue, would be so angry if we all died trying to save him.”

 

Eran squeezes her shoulder comfortingly as they continue to walk down the path. It's silent, and each one of them pretends they don't hear the sounds from above.

 

_Dear Zana,_

 

_I beg you to at least answer one of my letters, as Amelia has told me that you have not spoken to her either. We both are worried, and it is only because of my duties that I have not come to Dalaran in person. Please, take care of yourself._

 

_Your brother,_

 

_Eran_

 

 

 

Zana

 

 

 

Crumpling the letter angrily, Zana threw it at the wall. As it settled on the paved roads she flicked her wrist, returning the crumpled paper to her bag. Continuing on her way the young mage stopped at the fruit stand, buying a banana from the sapling vendor.

 

“Zana, how lovely to see you again.” Benthar, a high elf archmagi who had once been in her class, stared down at her. “Still just a mage I see, such a pity....you were always so talented.”

 

“Just because you wear the robes the of the Magi doesn't make you anymore powerful than me.” Zana's face is devoid of any emotion, and her voice is icy.

 

“Oh, but I know, such a shame that it's not your talent that holds you back.” The other elf leers, his face inches from her own.

 

“I suggest you refrain from mentioning my sister.” Her eyes glow dangerously, and her right hand turns to ice. “Least something....unfortunate happens.”

 

“Zana!” Whatever Benthar was about to say was cut short by the arrival of a young apprentice. “Archmage Sunreaver wishes to see you as soon as possible.”

 

“I will go see him now, thank you.” Zana nods in the apprentice's direction. “As for you, Benthar, I suppose I will....see you around.”

 

“I suppose you will.” The high elf nods haughtily before walking up the street.

 

“Zana.....my dear girl.” Aethas smiles as Zana walks into the room, rising up slightly. “It is good to see you.”

 

“You as well Archmage.” The younger blood elf sits down on the offered seat. “You wished to speak to me?”

 

“Yes, I received a letter from the Warchief this afternoon informing me that since we are a section of the Horde that we are required to send mages to the war effort, or more specifically, to the expedition.”

 

“Expedition? The war against the Lich King is over.” Zana eyes Aethas warily “Surely you don't mean-”

 

“That's exactly what I mean, though one does wonder how you know of it's existence.” The Archmage rises his eyebrows.

 

“Lucky guess. I've heard of the docks being built.” The young mage sidesteps the question with all charisma of a politician.

 

The Archmage's eyebrows rise further up, and his eyes focus on Zana. It's deathly quiet for a moment, before the seriousness lifts off Aethas' face.

 

“Very well my dear, keep your little secrets.” A crystal ball floats into his hand, the ball softly radiating light. “Well, come closer Zana, I'm not going to bite!”

 

Zana smiles slightly before settling down next to the Magi. The ball glows brighter before revealing the ocean.

 

“Vash'jir.....where all of our roots trace back too.” Aethas taps the ball, and the image changes, revealing the dusky hills of Dun Morogh. “But that, my dear Zana, that is why the Warchief wants it. The first real offensive post in years has become available in the blink of an eye!”

 

“Yet they say Vash'jir was home to Lady Azshara....and later on, the naga.” Zana sighs, tracing the hills on the ball.

 

“There has been no sign of the Naga....but there has been other sightings, the Alliance also has their eyes on Vash'jir.” Tapping the ball again, the image goes cloudy before revealing Alliance ships on the coast of Stormwind. “We are at war Zana, and this could either make or break us.”

 

“So you wish to send me there?” Zana pulls away from the ball.

 

“Well, he did say to send my best.” Aethas smirks slightly, setting the ball down on the table. “Zana....if you do this you will prove to the Council, to the Horde, to me, that you are above your sister's mistakes.”

 

“I am already above Ara's mistakes!” Zana snaps, forgetting for a moment who she was talking too. “And I don't need to prove it to you or the damned council!”

 

“But what about to yourself my dear?” Aethas leans back, crossing his arms across his chest.

 

“I don't-” Zana stops, her eyes wide as she realizes what she had just done. “I mean, I'm so-”

 

“The boat leaves tomorrow afternoon, I would suggest taking the portal earlier, maybe do some shopping?” Aethas smiles at Zana, understanding clear in his eyes. “The fresh air will do you some good, trust me.”

 

“Yes Archmagi, of course.” Zana murmurs, her eyes downcast. “I will see you when I return, I assume?”

 

“Of course, do try to be on your best behavior, we wouldn't want to anger the Warchief now would we?”

 

Nodding slightly, Zana murmured her goodbyes before leaving the lavish apartments. She slowly walks down the street, her hands curling and uncurling at her sides. She ends up in the park, seated on one of the benches surrounding the stature. The sun begins to set, and the people eventually begin to filter out, until she's the only one left.

 

“I do not wish to go.” Zana whispers, looking up at the silent faces of the statures. “I don't want to be a hero, I've seen what heroes become, what they are.”  
Her expression is hateful, icy anger in her eyes as she runs her fingers along the plaque, the words already burned in her mind. Eventually she returns to her rooms, waving her hand to start packing. Clothes flew around the room, setting themselves neatly in her bags. She sheds the traditional blue robe, folding it up before tossing it on her bed. Zana opens the door to the bathroom, revealing the myriad of hair products, make up and perfume. She pauses for a moment, debating on whether or not she needed to pack any of them. Yet in the end she flicked her wrist, sending them into her bag.

 

Stepping into the shower, Zana exhales as the hot water hits her back. Eventually she gets out, tugging her white hair into a messy bun. She slips back into her room, her suitcase settled on the ground near her bed. Dressed in a pale blue night gown she settled into bed, eventually falling asleep.

 

Morning arrived quickly, and with it came Zana's bad mood. Glaring at the clock as if it could somehow slow down time, she slung her bags on her back. Slowly making her way down the winding staircase she paused at the foot of the stairs.

 

“I do hope you shall be returning to soon Magistrate.” A young girl, an apprentice perhaps, was sitting at the foot of the stairs.

 

“I am not going anywhere, so there is no need for you to worry.” Zana readjusts the bag on her shoulder. “It is simply a few days in the Capital, that's all.”

 

She leaves her rooms, walking through the streets in the early morning, the only people awake besides her being the shopkeepers. As Zana slipped into the Horde Embassy she felt almost invisible. Walking towards the portal, she pauses for a moment, staring into the faded image before eventually slipping her hand into the portal.

 

“Welcome to Orgrimmar, how may I help you?” A female goblin's voice broke through the haze in Zana's mind.

 

“I am fine, thank you.” The young elf answers, already feeling the sweat on her robes. As the goblin turns back to her post Zana starts down the stairs.

 

The city was still waking up, the guards were rotating and the shops were just opening. Yet there was still the odd adventurer who was up in the early morning, either looking for a job or preparing to leave the city while it was still cool. Zana makes her way towards the exit, and it's almost empty, with most of the adventurers still asleep.

 

Making her way out of the city, Zana steps out into the sweltering desert. The road to the docks is clear, Garrosh having paved a road a erected scaffolding that reached higher than Orgrimmar's gates. Goblins are running around, pushing carts while arguing amongst themselves.

 

“Excuse me Ms, let me through!” Jumping out of the way Zana nearly avoided getting hit by a overzealous goblin.

 

Nodding her head Zana continues down the path, most of the goblins either ignoring her or simply not caring enough to stop their work. Zana breathes in the smell of salt air, the wind whipping the loose strands of hair around her face.

 

“You're the mage?”A heavily armored orc was standing at the foot of the docks.

 

“Yes that would be me.” Zana sighs, setting her bags on the ground. “When will the boat arrive?”

 

The orc looks out at the sea, his axe resting in his right hand. “Anytime now, the boat was at Azshara for repairs.”

 

Zana doesn't bother to answer, choosing instead to sit on the edge of the dock. They sit in silence, the orc guard staring out at the sea as the time slowly ticked past.

 

“Hello, is this the dock for Vash'jir?” A relatively deep yet feminine voice shook Zana out of her thoughts.

 

Dressed in a plain robe was a female tauren. At her hip was a stone mace and the only piece of jewelry was the golden twine that was braided into her hair.

 

“Yes, it is. I am representative from the Sunreaver's, you are?” Zana smiles briefly, standing up to shake the tauren's hand.

 

“I am Orianna, member of the Earthen Ring.” The tauren smiles brightly, shaking Zana's hand. “I am to join my fellow members, and as we have not heard from them in some time, I am catching a ride with you all.”

 

“I see, I am Zana, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Zana sits back down, leaving a spot for Orianna.

 

“Same here, do you know when the boat's arriving?” This time the question is aimed at the orc, who simply shook his head.

 

“We will have to wait a while.” Zana fills in, resting her elbows on her knees.

 

A few hours later the boat arrives, and they all get on board. Zana mostly tunes out Legionnaire Nazgrim, irritated at the ban on going below decks. Days past, and Zana spends her time sitting on the crate in the corner while Orianna sat near the bow, breathing in the fresh air.

 

Eventually the boat slows down, and Zana only briefly looks up from her book. She hears Nazgrim demand to know why they've stopped, and then there's a scream and as she looks up she feels the boat give a huge shudder.

 

“What's going-” She's thrown from the crate, landing on the deck. Struggling to get back up she sees that the boat is starting to split in half and that there's tentacles reaching up towards her.

 

Finally getting on her feet, she makes her way to the railing. Looking down, she feels fear coiling in her stomach. Hundreds of naga are swimming around, their yellow eyes glinting in the sunlight. Then the boat shakes and begins to fall apart and a final lurch sends her into the already swirling wreckage, and the last thing she sees is a distorted image of a man beside her.

 

**RETURNED TO SENDOR**

 

_ Dear Hana, _

 

_It is me, Eran. I haven't heard from you since Cataclysm hit, and, after talking to Amelia I discovered she hasn't either. I can only hope that you have been busy in the woods in Eversong and that you did not get stuck in one of the explosions._

 

_Your loving brother,_

 

_Eran_

 

 

 

**RETURNED TO SENDOR**

 

_ Dear Hana, _

 

_How are you? I've been in Outland since Cataclysm. I was lucky enough to avoid the roaring waters, and I can only hope that the same was for you. I've been quite busy dealing with the 'problem' that arose when we confronted Ara after the battle. You remember that incident? I promised you that I would find her, and every day I feel as if I'm getting closer. Please respond, as I am starting to get worried considering I just received Eran's letter saying that he hasn't heard from you either._

 

_Love,_

 

_Amelia_

 

 

 

Hana

 

 

 

When Hana was sent to Stonetalon it was suppose to be a simple mission, her first as a true member of the Holy Order. Then, Cataclysm happened.

 

“Just hold the line for a few more minutes!” Arrows fly through the air, yet the Alliance doesn't stop, they keep coming and coming and Hana's used up most of her strength already yet there's no end. Hana struggles to keep breathing, to keep the shields going just a little longer.

 

They're pushed to the edge of the mountain, where they're joined by tauren hunters telling stories of refugees hiding in the hill. Commander Za'geem orders a retreat, and Hana, along with several others find themselves on the path up the mountain. Sweating in her plate armor, Hana struggles to keep her eyes open for the Alliance spies. The guide continues to lead them up the winding path, encountering several Alliance spies.

 

“These paths have been used by my people for centuries, it is a shame that they must now be used for war.” The guide's voice is deep, and he speaks in a slow, rhythmical voice. “Every hunter in my family has had their first hunt on the paths, since we first settled here so long ago.”

 

Hana nods, pulling her helmet off to wipe the sweat off her face, her hair sticking to the back of her neck. The walk continues in silence, the path empty of any more Alliance. Eventually, as the path begins to widen, a large makeshift encampment comes into view.

 

“Welcome to Hunter's Hill.” The guide once again breaks the silence. “Since I was your guide I will also answer any questions you have.”

 

As some of the warriors gather around the tauren, Hana slips into the inn, smiling as the innkeeper hands her a mat along with a pillow and blankets. The paladin settles into the corner, placing her mat down before piling her armor into the corner. Now dressed only in a black tunic and leggings, Hana slipped back out into the camp. Walking towards the edge of the cliff, she sits, dangling her feet over the side.

 

“I wouldn't do that kid.” A lone orc walks by Hana towards the encampment. “There's Alliance down there, and they don't really know that we're here yet.”

 

“How do they not know?” The redhead tilts her head in confusion. “We're right above them! How would they not notice us?”

 

“Well, they do know we're here, they just don't quite understand where we are, you understand?” The orc looks down at her for a moment. “They don't have enough men to really get up here. In general most of the spies don't make it back to the camp, not to mention that we hold off all of the soldiers at the bottom.”

 

“Oh! I see, thank you!” Hana smiles, pulling her legs back up and crossing them underneath her. “Have a good night!”

 

Hana sits there for a little while as she watches the bright colors cross the sky. Eventually she gets up and goes back into the inn, curling up under the blankets before falling asleep. When she wakes back up the inn is crowded with the warriors from before. Forcing her way out Hana pulls her armor on, it's golden hue reflecting the early morning sun.

 

“Good morning, I am Onatay, the leader of Hunter's Hill.” A tall tauren smiled down at Hana. “I have a few tasks for you.”

 

“All right, what do you want me to do?” Hana smiles, running her hands through her hair. She sits down as she listens to Onatay's orders.

 

Hana spends the next two weeks holding off the ongoing barrage of Alliance soldiers. By the end her hair is frizzed and constantly falling out of her ponytail and her armor has lost it's shine, instead being a cloudy shade that no amount of elbow shine will take away. Yet by the end she knows the area around Hunter's Hill like the back of her hand, constantly having to still oncoming soldiers.

 

It was during one of those battles that Hana first saw him. She was healing one of the tauren hunters when she saw a long orc being surrounded by a brigade of Alliance soldiers. Running towards the group, the paladin throws her shield at the men, getting their attention. Throwing her hand up she ignites the ground beneath them, swinging her sword in a wide arc, slicing into their armor. A few a minutes later the soldiers were dead at her feet, yanking her helmet off and kneeling on the ground next to the orc.

 

“Damn, come on, come on!” Hana murmurs, her hands glowing brightly as she struggled to heal him. The orc continues to bleed out, and she bites her lip in irritation. “I am a freaking Holy Paladin, granted I may not have any real field experience but I can still do this!”

 

She takes a deep breath, and then her hands glow even brightly before the orc's entire body begins to glow as well. For a few minutes he continues to glow until finally, the light clears and reveals the orc less injured, but was still bleeding out. Biting her lip again, Hana struggles to pick up the orc. Slinging his arm over her shoulders, she slowly makes her way back towards the camp, and the guards at the base of the hill.

 

“Help! A healer please!” Hana breathes in deeply as she struggles to carry the orc's weight. The warriors come running to help, and a tauren takes the orc from her with ease.

 

Following behind the tauren Hana remembers that she left her helmet out on the plains. Sighing, she continues to follow the tauren into the heart of the camp. Lying the orc down on the mat in the center, Onatay quickly comes running towards them.

 

“We may have a slight problem.” The tauren looks down at the orc nervously. “We sent our only healer out to look for survivors in the wilderness to the east.”

 

“When....when is he expected back?” Hana kneels down next to the orc once more, tugging his plate armor off. “He's already overheating, he's.....he's not going to last long if he doesn't get help!”

 

“You are a Holy Paladin aren't you?” Onatay sits down next to her and helps her remove the clothes under his armor, leaving him in just his loincloth. “You can heal him, at least until the shaman comes back, right?”

 

“I.....yes, yes, I can.” Hana sighs, running her hand down the orc's face, causing the deep gash on his face to start to heal. “I'm going to need somewhere to work, somewhere out of the sun.”

 

“Right here, Ramja will move out of her tent so that you can work.” Onatay helps move the orc warrior to the mat in the tent.

 

Kneeling down next to the warrior Hana places a white cloth on his forehead before she begins to focus on the more serious wounds. Her hands began to glow, and eventually his wounds slowly begin to close up. Hana works for hours, and the sun slowly begins to set in the sky.

 

“Okay, okay, I can do this.” Hana whispers, running another cloth over the warrior's fevered brow. “I just need to do a internal healing, which I'm pretty sure I can do, but maybe I'll wait a little bit, see if his fever will break naturally....”

 

Closing her eyes for a moment, Hana presses the washcloth to the other's forehead. Yawning, she felt her shoulders drooping as her eyes refused to open. Settling herself on the ground next to the mat, the paladin fell asleep curled up next to the warrior.

 

“Good morning.” Hana hears a deep voice from right next her. Blinking her eyes a few times, Hana sees a muscular orc staring down at her.

 

“You.....you shouldn't be moving!” Hana pushes herself up onto her forearms. “You don't know if your fever's broken, you should stay lying down.”

 

“I'm fine princess, I know how to take care of myself.” The orc smirks down at her, his long, black hair falling down his chest.

 

“I should still check, I'm a certified healer.” Hana smiles as she pushes him back down, settling on her knees. “I'm Hana! What's your name?”

 

“I am Drakkon, and you're a healer?” Drakkon looks up at elf as she runs her glowing hands along his body. “Do you know where my armor is?”

 

“Yes, I chose to be a Holy paladin, after my initial training was complete I started my healer's training.” Hana pulls her hands back. “Your armor is outside, we had to take it off because you were overheating.”

 

“I see, thank you very much.” Drakkon nods as he tries to push his hair out of his face, causing a pained expression to cross his face.

 

“Are you ok? Does your arm hurt?” Hana reaches over to grab his wrist, the glow emitting from her hand jumping to his arm. “There, that should make it feel better.”

 

“So am I all good princess?” Drakkon looks up at her, a small grin on his face. “Or do I need to stay in here longer?”

 

Shaking her head Hana smiles before pressing another cloth on his forehead. “I'm afraid not, it looks like you still have a small fever, and you're still weak. Don't worry though, the shaman should be back any day now and he's way better than I am at healing.”

 

“That's fine, will you be keeping me company?” The orc pushed himself up slightly. “Am I allowed to sit up?”

 

“Of course I will be!” Hana beams brightly, soaking the cloth in the water again. “And yes, you should be able to, I healed all of your exterior wounds so as long as you tell me if anything hurts.”

 

“Okay.” Drakkon nods before pushing himself up to a sitting position. “Tell me about yourself princess.”

 

Laughing Hana nods, “Well if I tell you about me, then you're going to have to tell me about yourself.”

 

“Deal”

 

 

 


End file.
